


Workforce

by Burntfalls



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Tony Stark, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Justin Hammer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-28 12:31:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20778629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burntfalls/pseuds/Burntfalls
Summary: Justin Hammer is looking for a new line of work but his secretive interview is with none other than lifelong arch-nemesis, Tony Stark.





	1. The Interview

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CircleUp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircleUp/gifts).

The room was clean and sleek but it was an odd place for an interview and Justin found he was a little miffed by it. His credentials certainly suggested he merited more than this. Some vacant office space rented out by the hour like a fucking hooker hotel. What did that make him, a John?

He’d dressed to the nines like he always did, though, the promise of the lucrative opportunities attached to the mysterious position too much to risk. And let’s be honest, he dressed up for fun most of the time. He wasn’t nervous, per say, but it was odd for Justin not to know exactly what he was getting into. If that meant he’d had to bribe someone for the info, well... But the thing was no one here could be bribed. He didn’t even know who he was talking to.

Probably a smarter and more morally strict man wouldn't have taken the interview. The likelihood that this was some shady shit was probably too high for the average Joe. But Justin was not average. He drove himself to be so much more than average. And so far he’d done great! University had been a playground but now he was in the real world and he was going to Crush It.

The door on the other side of the mostly-empty waiting room opened up and a thin woman with black hair and horn-rimmed glasses glanced at a clipboard in the most vapid way- as though there could be anyone here EXCEPT the single man dressed in a thousand-dollar suit waiting for this goddamn interview.

“Justin Hammer.” He told her briskly as he stood and straightened his jacket with one hand, the other gripping the polished handle of his briefcase.

Her ruby lips curved up into a briefly polite smile that didn’t reach her eyes and she nodded, “Right this way.”

She must have been a rent-a-bitch because she stopped halfway down the hall and pointed to a conference room behind frosted glass, “Your interview is in Room A.” She told him, then popped some gum between her teeth.

He gave her a somewhat snide sideways-smile and strode down the hall like he owned the place. There was nothing to be concerned about. It wasn’t like he didn’t know who all the crime-lords in the city were, anyway. He didn’t know them _personally_ but he found studying them as something of an entertaining hobby. One that could be productive now and then.

Except when he turned the chrome handle and swung open the door, it wasn’t a fucking mob boss standing on the other side of the oak conference table but Tony Fucking Stark.

And Tony, that smug, condescending fucker, gave Justin a knowing look that said he’d planned all of this shit.

“Afternoon, Hammer.” Tony greeted lazily, an almost-impish (but too sharp to be a real imp who was probably more chaotic-evil to Tony’s chaotic-good.)

He blinked and then instantly hated himself for how off-guard he’d been caught. His brow furrowed down into an instant-scowl, “Stark.”

“Justin.” Stark replied redundantly with that smug look that Justin wanted to wipe the fuck off of his face.

It didn't escape Justin’s notice that Stark has used his first name while Justin continued using ‘Stark’ which is actually quite stupid because he’s used Tony more often than not. He was still a bit off kilter in this situation, his mind fully on impress-the-interviewer mode and not on show-Tony-Stark-the-fuck-up like he usually would be around this little prick.

Hammer set his briefcase down on the table and splayed his hands over it with a brief intake of breath just like his chakra coach had been teaching him. Zen. He was totally fucking zen right now.

Of course, his mind was very helpfully snapping him back to the Good Old Days. At the reminder that he’d had Tony’s name rolling off of his tongue before he was instantly transported back to the most lewd instance of that. Of course.


	2. The Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to college when Justin gets stuck in a closet watching Tony get lucky.

Tony and Justin were competing for the head of their class from the time Tony arrived as a freshman five years Justin's junior (Justin was a sophomore and summarily unimpressed by this development.) Hammer joked that Tony's balls hadn't dropped yet and Stark joked that Justin had been dropped. As a child. On his head.

For years they traded insults like this- schoolyard bullying that has a veneer of cheerful competitiveness but it has nothing to do with their grades because the proof is in the pudding and Stark was constantly two or three points higher on average than Hammer.

It was infuriating. More than all of Tony's audacity and his brazenness and his sense of entitlement. It infuriated Hammer that Tony had a consistent, absolute certainty that he was better than Hammer. Which was possibly true because Hammer had to claw and work and grind himself raw to get that extra percent while Tony simply slipped through like he'd written the exams himself.

That probably wouldn't have been the worst thing- Justin had proven more annoying men wrong before- but it was the way that Tony seemed to look at him, like he was a blade of grass sullying his perfectly white, designer-brand sneakers. Tony looked at Justin like he was a temporary impediment to his style. Justin didn't even warrant the effort of competition.

He was ready to burn up over the rage of it all- a whole year and a half, three semesters, of this bullshit- but maybe it was good. Justin was using Tony's lack-of-consciousness as fuel. Maybe he'd catch fire and then Tony would recognize him ablaze in front of him. Competition for the sun.

... That, or Justin could sneak into Tony's dorm room and steal his study notes.

Listen. Justin was desperate at this point. His other option had been to pay Jimmy McFay to break Tony's legs. This was the lesser of two evils and, honestly, Justin felt pretty good about his life choices here.

Tony had a dorm room because of fucking course Tony had a dorm room. He also had a pent house but he liked to have a place to crash at when he'd partied too hard or when he was feeling particularly organic and wanted to mesh with the plebes that made up the bulk of the student body.

So Justin wasn't sure that Tony kept any of his actual work here but the security was a fraction what it would be at the penthouse. He was rifling through drawers when he heard footsteps approaching and while that wouldn't have been enough to cause Justin pause originally, mostly certain that Tony was at the mixer three blocks down at a frat house, but then came That Laugh.

Tony's carefree, I Own This Building and I'll Give You A Floor, I'm the smartest man in the room and I chose you, laugh. So flirting.

Fuck.

Justin slid the drawer shut and scrambled to the middle of the room where he froze for a beat in a panic. There was only one direction out of this room and it was through the door that Tony would be in full view of by now. There was a washroom and a closet (yes, Tony had the most expensive, private dorm room) and a window that would dump Justin six stories onto a concrete parking spot.

Closet it was.

He slipped in and got the folding doors just almost-shut in time for the door to swing open and Tony to drawl, "Mi casa es tu casa." 

"I didn't know you were French, Tony!" a brunette giggled and swatted Tony's shoulder. He was wearing a tee-shirt but somehow he still looked suave. It was the same effortlessness that Tony went through his classes with- it permeated every part of his life and Justin hated him for it.

There was some more murmuring but it was quickly replaced by the sounds of wet kissing and Justin crouched and eventually sat on the floor of the mostly-empty closet, ready for the long-haul.

Tony was... well, Tony was slick. Justin watched while he kissed all the perfect spots on a swan-like neck and tucked brown hair out of his way like he was Moses parting the sea. He watched Tony slip straps off of perfectly tanned shoulders and undo buttons nimble as you please, all while never missing a beat in the passionate tangle of their tongues. He watched fabric pool on the floor and when the light was turned off they were still illuminated by the street lamps outside (Tony took a pause here to remind his date how beautiful she was, by any light) which gave Justin a perfect view of Tony's chiselled ass.

Just like everything else, it was perfect. The taut muscles that tightened as he rocked his hips and his thighs corded tight to brace himself in the contorted position of their lovemaking. His back was broad and smooth and pale, apparently he was vain but not enough to get a tan, and his shoulders were strong and broad despite being a scholar.

Somehow Justin wound up with his cock in his hand, his eyes glued not on the gorgeous nursing student spread out on the bed but on the striking figure of Tony above her. A hand slid around Tony's back, clinging to him and Justin could feel Tony's blazing skin beneath his palm. He could feel the friction of their bodies and taste the too-expensive wisky on Tony's stupidly perfectly lips and--

He barely caught himself from crying out as he came, sitting in the closet in the dark, hiding from Tony who was fucking a super model on his own bed.

It was not a high point of his life, he'd admit. Eventually he could slink from the darkness of the now-vacant room (of course Tony send her off with some charming assurances and he wasn't spending the night on this low of thread-count.) He snatched a handful of notes on his way out and did terribly on the next exam.


End file.
